


Too Much

by edibleflowers



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 13:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey has a lot of love to give. This isn't necessarily a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> There's a whole crew responsible for this one. inspiration is courtesy of (alphabetically) Alicia, Allecto, Althea, Ceili, and TNL. Hugs to all. Thanks especially to Aly and Ceili for reading and cheerleading (and demanding more). To Ceili, for her birthday.

The problem, Joey thought, wasn't that he didn't love enough. It was that he loved too much.

* * *

It had been JC, first, a couple of years into their friendship. He'd known from the moment they met that JC was gay; it took him another year to realize that he himself liked men as much as he did women -- sometimes more. One night, he'd walked JC home after an MMC rehearsal -- as he often did -- and they'd paused on the porch, making plans to go to the movies that weekend. Joey had stared at JC's lips, thinking: _I could kiss him. I could kiss him right now_.

In the middle of JC's enthusiastic babble about the movie he wanted to see, Joey leaned forward and cut him off by pressing his mouth to JC's. JC froze, and then he pulled back, staring at Joey, his eyes dark in the looming shadows of evening, his face confused.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked.

"I wanted to," Joey had said. He'd felt himself flush all over, hot from head to toe, scalp prickling. "I'm sorry. You-- I. I wanted to kiss you."

JC touched him, then, a thumb moving tentatively on his shoulder. "You can do it again," he murmured. Eager relief swept through Joey, and he stepped closer to JC. He was breathing shallowly through his mouth; he'd kissed girls before, but never a boy, and JC was entrancingly beautiful with his hair all loose and wavy in his eyes. He touched JC's face and took a breath and kissed him again.

* * *

JC was his first boy, then, in kissing and touching and other things. They never made a big deal of it -- Joey definitely didn't stop seeing girls, because he loved girls and girls loved him. He even developed something of a regular relationship with one of them, Kelly, who didn't harbor any illusions about his proclivities, and didn't really complain when he told her that he was going to Germany with the group.

It was nice, Joey thought, to have JC there. Comforting. They had their friendship, which was solid, and even though he liked all the other guys fine, he was close to JC and that meant, among other things, that he wasn't alone. If there was one thing Joey hated, it was being alone.

At the end of one long day -- three performances, with a half-hour break between -- Joey had tumbled out of the shower of the tiny room he shared with Chris, intent on collapsing, and saw JC reclining nude on the double bed. "Oh," he said, yanking his towel around his waist: JC was hard, his eyes closed, his fist moving lazily on himself.

"Come here," JC invited, and without wondering where Chris was, Joey went.

They were making out, the towel pushed down around Joey's thighs, when the door opened and Chris walked in.

Startled, Joey pulled back from JC, reaching for the crumpled terrycloth to cover himself. It was too late, though: Chris's face was explicit in its awareness of what he'd witnessed. Chris didn't seem mad or upset, and there was no censure -- though Joey registered some sadness -- in his eyes as he said, "I'm just gettin' my wallet. I'm takin' J and Lance out -- you guys have fun, huh?"

The door closed behind him again, and JC beamed up at Joey, curved a hand around his neck and drew him down again. "It's cool, baby, it's cool," he murmured, and Joey, lost in arousal and the dizzying nearness of JC, was all too willing to believe him.

* * *

Later, it was Lance. Lance, who needed a friend so badly when he came down from Mississippi with his two bags of clothes and watched Chris clear out a space in his room for him. Lance, whose normal friendliness was masked behind a temporary wall of shyness at being away from everything familiar and safe. Joey felt obligated to take Lance under his wing and nurture him, and he somehow wasn't surprised when Lance developed the crush on him.

Sitting in bed with JC one night, after their return from Germany, he held JC's hand and asked him what he should do. JC had rolled his head on the pillow, looked thoughtful, and said, "Well, it's not like we're boyfriends or something, right?"

Joey jumped on his words. He was still in a guy-appreciating phase, and he had definitely come to appreciate Lance in the past several months. Lance was awkward and looked strange, with the platinum hair Lou had forced him to dye, but Joey could see strong bone structure and lean hips beneath the cocoon, and knew that before very long Lance would break free into something iridescent and beautiful, and he wanted to aid that transformation.

So he sat on the beach with Lance and talked all night, hands deep in the warm sand, and when Lance pushed him to his back and kissed him, he closed his eyes and enjoyed it. Lance was the second boy he'd ever kissed. He tasted different than JC, his lips thinner and smoother, not as plush lush wet as JC's, but Joey liked it. He liked the arousal that lit up Lance's eyes, and when Lance slithered down his body, sliding hot fingers into his open jeans and guiding Joey's thick erection between his lips, Joey dug his hands into the sand and forgot everything but the galvanizing heat of Lance's mouth and the sweet rough texture of his tongue.

When Joey told JC about it, he seemed genuinely pleased, and Joey was too caught up in it to wonder whether JC's approval was sincere, especially when JC demanded details and then pushed him back and slid wet demanding fingers into him. Joey was pretty sure JC liked it.

* * *

He had been dividing his nights between JC and Lance -- and, every once in a while, both of them -- and Kelly, when she came on the tour, for several months before Justin approached him. Joey and Justin had never been as close as, say, Joey and Lance. Joey knew that Justin was a little jealous; Justin had worshiped JC, back on the Mouse, and had at one point been somewhat possessive of JC, even going so far as to get in Joey's face once and say that "we were friends first, so back off, man," which technically wasn't true, but Joey hadn't felt like arguing the point. It hadn't fostered much of a friendship; but they gradually got closer as time went by, as they went through incidents where Joey held Justin's head over toilets, and lied to his mom about where they'd been.

When they got their tattoos, Justin went first. He gripped Joey's hand tightly, and Joey sat with his lower lip set between his teeth and watched Justin's eyelids twitch while the needle buzzed into his skin, over and over. After it was done, Justin did the same for Joey, although Joey kind of enjoyed the razor-fine pain, the constant dull thrill of it. He liked Justin's hand in his, too, though, so he said nothing, just watched Justin's sober eyes, while JC stood in the anteroom with Lance, hands covering his ears, and Chris slouched in a corner and paged through a magazine, awaiting his turn.

Joey was hanging out at Justin's one night, late after a party, when Justin climbed onto his lap and kissed him. Everyone else had gone, and they were still pleasantly wasted, giggling over how trashed Justin's place was and how much he'd have to pay to get it cleaned up, and the next thing Joey knew, he had a lapful of squirming Justin, hands in his hair, mouth hot and sloppy-wet.

At first, Joey didn't resist it. Justin was still young but he had technique, and hey, he could always use this against him later. Too, he liked the idea of being able to say that he'd kissed Justin Timberlake. When Justin started pulling at Joey's shirt, though, Joey took hold of his shoulders and gently broke the kiss. Justin gasped and blinked at Joey. His lips were glossy, puffy, looked bruised.

"What'd you do that for?"

"Justin, you're drunk," Joey said.

"So're you."

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"I want you, Joey." Justin looked down, long fingers plucking at the buttons on Joey's shirt. "I've wanted you for a long time."

"Jesus!" Joey couldn't control his explosive laugh, even when Justin narrowed his eyes angrily. "I can't help it, it's just. Jesus, man. Four out of the five of us are into guys? What the hell are the odds?"

"Fine," Justin said sulkily, and slid off Joey's lap. "I don't. I'm not. Whatever."

"Justin." Joey reached for Justin's hand; Justin looked down, determinedly not meeting Joey's eyes. "J, don't be like that, man. You know I wasn't laughing at you."

Justin's eyes were large and glittered in the darkness. "When is it my turn, Joey?" he whispered. Joey tugged at his hand, and Justin folded without resistance into Joey's lap, a sprawl of angular limbs.

"It can be now," Joey murmured. This time, he let Justin kiss him. He tugged Justin's tight tee-shirt from his jeans, slipped it off his chest, traced the lean muscles of his back with thick fingers. Justin whimpered, making a sound like a sob when Joey dropped his head to apply suction to a stiff nipple, but he was otherwise silent.

It was all quiet -- the house reflecting Justin's occasional impassioned cries, making the sounds echo in Joey's ears -- a startling contrast to the party's loudness. Joey found the lube he kept in a jacket pocket for emergencies, retrieved a condom from his wallet, and disrobed the both of them, all in marked stillness. Justin's eyes stayed closed while Joey lubed his fingers; he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and kept it there as Joey pressed into him, one, two fingers, slow and steady.

There was a moment when Joey pulled back, kneeling between Justin's thighs, and looked down at him. Justin lay spread-eagled on the couch, flushed, trembling: Joey didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful sight. He arranged Justin's legs over his shoulders -- Justin mewling eagerly as he drew a hand down his friend's chest, over his plump erection, around his scrotum and between his buttocks -- and then leaned forward, shifting his weight.

Joey closed his eyes, the better to focus on the pleasure; pumping into Justin -- who wrapped receptive thighs around his waist and panted, squeaked with enjoyment, gasped and moaned beneath him -- was nothing short of heavenly. Justin bucked upwards, hips rolling liquid-sweet, accepting him fully with each thrust, and the thrill of the damp erection riding against Joey's belly drove him to stroke harder, faster, until finally he came: groaning, awash in his climax, aware dimly that it had been more intense than any in recent memory.

Justin continued to cling to him after Joey wrapped his cock in a fist and brought him to his own orgasm. Joey kind of liked it, though. Later, when they collected themselves enough to clean up a little and stumble into bed, Joey put an arm around Justin's shoulders and held him close without even really thinking about it.

* * *

"So, you and Justin," JC said, a few days later. Joey flushed guiltily and looked down. He'd been surprised at how much he was enjoying being with Justin -- Justin's enthusiasm, his abandon in bed, his simple and honest adoration of Joey. There was something intoxicating about being with him.

"It's cool, man." JC slung an arm over Joey's shoulders, kissed his ear. "Just, you know. If you guys are gonna be serious, you should say something. To Lance, and, uhh, Chris."

Joey raised an eyebrow in consternation. "How do you mean, Chris?"

They were sitting in a meeting room at the Compound, waiting for Johnny and - as usual - Chris to arrive. Lance had been pacing for the past ten minutes, while Justin had abandoned them to get something to drink. JC looked at his lap, at the hand curved there.

"I like Chris," he said softly, in a tone of voice that left no doubt as to his meaning. "And, uhh. Chris likes you."

"Chris-- You're insane," Joey retorted.

"You really don't see it, do you?" JC said, full of wonder, and Joey didn't have any time to figure out what he meant because Chris and Johnny arrived then -- arguing good-naturedly about something -- and Chris slid into the seat next to JC and smiled so hard he practically glowed. JC's arm slipped away from Joey. He registered the loss keenly.

* * *

He was happy for JC and Chris, though. He was. Besides, he was busy with Justin -- demanding and eager in bed, with stamina that often made Joey feel twice his twenty-five years, Justin was an enthusiastic lover and had a youthful joy in which Joey could easily lose himself -- and Lance, although he saw less of Lance lately. Lance had started casually dating some guy whose name Joey could never remember, with dark hair and a British accent. They seemed to be having a good time, and Joey was getting so wrapped up with Justin that he barely felt the sting of the end of relations with Lance.

It hurt more with JC, though, and he thought it might be because they'd been fooling around for so long. He loved JC, sure -- he loved them all, in different ways -- but there were genuine pangs when he saw JC and Chris smile at each other, sharing private looks that said a million things; when JC's hand lingered at the small of Chris's back, or squeezed his knee in an intimately familiar way.

Joey had never thought about Chris in a sexual way, except one time when they were all drunk and playing I Never and Chris had declared that he'd never slept with all of his bandmates. When Joey hadn't taken the shot, Chris had crawled over to him and kissed him, and Joey'd felt desire flare, hot and sweet, as Chris's tongue licked into his mouth. Chris had ended the kiss and murmured against his lips, "There, that counts." The alcohol tasted like Chris after that, and Joey had been uncomfortably hard for the rest of the night, until finally he'd taken Lance to bed and they'd fucked, hard, for what in Joey's clouded memory seemed like hours.

Now, it seemed, he couldn't get thoughts of Chris out of his head. Lazy in bed one Sunday morning, Justin asked Joey if he'd ever had fantasies about Chris, and the words came spilling out without conscious thought. Justin told Joey to close his eyes, and his voice after that was a breathy imitation of Chris's. Joey came into Justin's hand in moments.

"You miss JC?" Justin asked him later. Joey sighed and nodded, pressing his face into Justin's shoulder.

"I, yeah, I do. I love him," Joey admitted. "I mean, it's not. We were never -- committed to each other, or anything. But he was always there."

"And now he's not," Justin murmured, stroking damp hair back from Joey's forehead. "I am, baby, I promise. I'm not gonna go away."

Joey's arms tightened around Justin's waist. "I love you, J. I do," he whispered fiercely, and kissed away the surprised look on Justin's face. When Justin pushed him back, wrapping Joey's hands around the bars of the headstead, Joey let him; then he watched, lust firing his veins, while Justin prepared his own body for Joey's cock, then straddled his hips and eased down, slow, slow, into Joey's lap.

Justin's bottom lip was caught tight between his teeth, but he wouldn't let Joey touch him to soothe away the hurt on his face: "You have to keep holding on," Justin said, and rocked slowly on Joey, in an agony of pleasure, his erection bobbing free between them.

They stayed like that, moving in half-time, a haze of arousal glazing Joey's vision, until he couldn't take it anymore and grasped Justin's hips hard to urge a faster pace. After they came -- Justin first, his fist beating fast between them; Joey right behind him, caught up in his lover's cresting pleasure -- Justin curled up on Joey, the corners of his eyes leaking, and hoarsely said, "I love you too."

* * *

And that, Joey thought, should have been that. He was ridiculously happy. He loved Justin; he cut off his thoughts of Chris, ignoring them entirely. When Joey confided to Lance that he and Justin had confessed love, Lance seemed enthusiastic, approving, happy for them. Joey told Lance that he still loved him; Lance replied, "I know," with a bittersweet smile, and kissed Joey gently on the mouth. "But you're in love with J now, and that's what's important."

He'd broken off entirely with Kelly, though when she stormed into Justin's hotel room one day without knocking and tearfully displayed the home pregnancy kit, he knew that he'd suddenly have a lot more to deal with. Justin was supportive, as were the others -- after the requisite shouting match -- and it was all made worth it several months later when Brianna was born. Since he and Kelly had managed to remain friends, Joey thought he had the best of all possible worlds: he had Justin, now his boyfriend, and he had Brianna, and he was still on good terms with Kelly as well as the others.

At some point, Joey noticed that JC wasn't answering his calls. Joey had been getting Chris's voicemail, too, so he figured it was just that they were wrapped up in each other, and that he'd talk to them at rehearsal. After all, he spent the majority of his time with Justin, when he wasn't helping with Brianna, so he figured it was just retribution for the way he'd unthinkingly excluded his friends from his life.

Rehearsals started again, and JC was warm, but distant. He congratulated them, clapping Justin on the shoulder and telling him that he'd lucked out with Joey and that he'd have to work to keep him in his bed. Joey flushed at that, but Justin promised that there'd be no problem with that. "I'll tie him down," he grinned, and Joey went crimson and wrestled Justin to the floor.

Chris watched them, quietly, and then went into another room with JC. Joey felt the sting more keenly than if Chris had said something. He rather wished Chris had.

* * *

Britney had them over for lunch one afternoon, serving neat club sandwiches on paper plates, and they curled up in lounge chairs on the patio and ate, Justin reclining between Joey's thighs, broad shoulders relaxed against Joey's chest. Britney sat with her legs tucked beneath her, smiling indulgently at them. "You're so cute," she murmured, and Joey beamed, kissing the top of Justin's head.

After the plates were cleared away, she fixed them with a serious look and asked if they'd thought about publicity and media attention and such things. "Brit, it's not like this is a new thing," Joey protested, but she was firm.

"You have to be more careful. You might have been sleeping around with the others, but now this is real, you're in a relationship, and you have to think about everything." She glanced back at the house, significantly; her girlfriend was at work, but they'd seen the evidence of a second person living there, and Joey was well aware that Britney had probably already been through the lectures from everyone and their mother.

He and Justin warily agreed to her cautions, and then Justin chuckled as they escaped, as he backed the BMW down the driveway. "And I still gotta pretend she's my girlfriend. I love Brit, but, God! I'm glad I'm going out with you and not her."

Joey thwapped Justin on the arm. "Be nice," he scolded, and Justin grinned and winked at him.

* * *

They were careful, in public, even in private when there was a chance something could be observed by a judgmental eye. Joey's parents knew, and Justin's mother, but not everyone in the inner circle was privy to everything, and when Chris's mother walked in on them kissing, she rolled her eyes and let them have it with both barrels.

Chris apologized later, but Joey had a feeling he wasn't really sorry.

* * *

Then things got really insane -- the tour starting, publicity for the record, talk shows and radio appearances and MTV drop-ins, and Joey fell into bed every night exhausted. They'd rearranged the bus situation at Justin's request, so now Joey and Justin and Lance all shared a bus and JC and Chris had the other one to themselves. So it wasn't until mid-July, backstage before a show in Kansas City, that Joey realized JC and Chris were having problems. He walked into their dressing room, only realizing a moment after he'd opened the door that he could be interrupting something, and discovered that instead of sex, he was disrupting a shouting match.

They both turned to look at him, and then JC flung himself out of the room in a huff. Looking drained, Chris slumped into a chair. Joey looked after JC, saw Lance following him, and closed the door behind himself.

"Hey," he said, taking the seat next to Chris. Chris grunted and said nothing. "Nice weather we're having, huh?" he asked, and picked up an eyeliner pencil from the counter, fiddling with the cap.

"Fuck off, Fatone," Chris said.

"Nope," Joey said cheerfully. "You gonna tell me what's wrong?"

Chris gave a faint snort. His fingers moved restlessly on a hole in his jeans, plucking at the white threads edging the gap. "It'd take too long to explain."

"I've got all night. Well, not all night," Joey amended, "'cause, the show. But I'm here, man, if you want to talk."

"I know," Chris said, his voice a bare whisper, edged with tension.

Lance and Justin came in, then, reporting that JC was holed up in the Quiet Room and refused to talk to them, and Chris got up with a resolute expression, muttered, "I'll fix him," and headed off. Justin raised a curious eyebrow at Joey, who shrugged in return.

"He wouldn't talk to me," he explained.

"Something's going on," Lance muttered, as Justin reached for Joey's hand, squeezing it.

"We'll get it taken care of. They'll be all right," Joey said, with an assurance he didn't feel.

* * *

When Chris showed up at the hotel room Joey and Justin shared later that evening, Justin nodded, quietly pulling on his jeans and heading out to talk to JC. Joey let Chris into the room, an arm around his friend's shoulders. Chris's face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed. Joey fetched the box of tissues from the bathroom and sat Chris down on the bed.

"It's not working out," Chris said without preamble. Joey flinched.

"Not working out how?" he asked.

Chris got up and began moving around the room, restless, touching everything. "I. Before, it wasn't so bad. We weren't. I mean, even though we were living together, we weren't in each others' faces all the time. But now it's, like, 24-7 quality time, and I get to the point where I wish he'd go away and God, Joey, I don't want that but--"

"Jeez, Chris." Joey watched Chris's hand flutter over the top of the television set, along the curvetted edge of the desk.

"He used to spend so much time in the studio, and you know, that was fine because then he'd come home and, you know, it wasn't. It's too much sometimes. And sometimes I don't think he even realizes I'm there, or cares, or..." At the window, Chris stopped, wrapping his arms around himself. "I know he loves me, and, and I love him, so much, but."

Feeling helpless, Joey stood, crossing the room to stand next to Chris. He'd never seen his friend's eyes so bleak. After a moment, Chris snuffled, then threw his arms around Joey and pressed his face into his tee-shirt. Joey cradled a gentle hand around the back of Chris's head, comforting.

"And it doesn't help that I have this, like, thing for you that won't go away," Chris mumbled. "He knows I'd never, never do anything, and you and J are so into each other that it wouldn't even, but."

A cold shock filtered through Joey; dimly, he remembered something JC had said, what seemed like ages ago. " _I like Chris_ ," he'd pointed out, " _and, uhh. Chris likes you_." On the heels of that thought came a flurry of images: fantasies about Chris he'd shared with Justin, moments when he'd noticed Chris's eyes or smile or hands. Suddenly he didn't know what to say.

"I. I'm sorry, man," he began, but Chris shook his head, his cheek pressed to Joey's shoulder.

"Don't be. I mean, it's not exactly your fault I'm in love with you. JC, he, he thought I'd get over it or something, but I guess I never really have."

"You're in love with me," Joey echoed.

Chris looked up at him, his eyes wet. "Yeah, Fatone. That so difficult to believe?" When Joey didn't immediately respond, Chris reached up and shut Joey's mouth for him, then stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, so. Umm, that's not really helping things either."

Joey watched Chris walk back towards the door, stopping on the way to grab a few tissues from the box and blow his nose. "Is there anything I can do?" he said, the words sounding utterly inadequate and lame in the room's stillness.

Chris shrugged. "Wave your magic wand and make me be only in love with C?" He quirked a faint, false smile at Joey. "Don't worry about it. I mean, if we work out, we will. If we don't, well, it's not like I'm not used to it."

He let the door fall shut behind him, and Joey sat down on the bed, feeling a strange ache in his heart.

* * *

When Justin came back from JC's room, Joey could tell from the look in his eyes that he already knew. Justin sat down heavily on the bed, hands clasped, and flinched when Joey stroked an exploratory hand over his back.

"Chris," he said, his voice wavering. Joey tugged Justin into his arms, rubbing his back gently. Justin's head lay on Joey's shoulder. "I guess I'm not surprised," and Justin's tone was faint. "I mean, JC and Lance and me, so why not Chris?"

"I'm sorry, baby," Joey said inadequately. Justin sniffed and pressed his eyes against Joey's shoulder.

"Are you in love with him, too?" Justin asked. Joey blinked at the curve of Justin's finely-shaved head, and remembered the fantasies.

"I don't know," he admitted, and felt Justin shake in his arms. "I'm sorry, J," he added, feeling futile. "There's -- I never had a clue he was into me, even though JC said something a while back -- I, I didn't believe him."

"But what about you?" Justin persisted. "I mean, I know you were into him, but I, I thought that was, like, in the past. If it isn't--"

"I'm not in love with him." The protest was automatic, and even as Joey spoke, he wondered how truthful his own words were. "I, yeah, I used to think about what it'd be like-- Shit, J, I used to think about what you'd be like, before we got together. I had fantasies about all of us."

Justin was silent for a little while, sagged against Joey, who stroked his back and felt helpless, useless. Finally Justin pulled back, his eyes pained. "I want you," he whispered, plucking at the collar of Joey's tee-shirt. "You're the one I want to be with. I never, n-never wanted anyone else but you. B-but you're not like that, and if, if you want to be with him..."

"Oh, shit, Justin." Joey closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to Justin's temple. "No, baby. I love you. I don't-- Even if I wanted Chris, it's not even an option anyway, 'cause he and C..." He shook his head, his hand stilling at the waistband of Justin's pants. "I'm not gonna fall in love with him."

Justin nodded, silently pushing Joey back to the bed, tugging his shirt off. As Joey opened his legs for his lover, he felt sure that this was right, this was what he wanted above all else.

* * *

Joey supposed he wasn't surprised when JC cornered him the next day. "You had your chance," he said quietly, "with both of us."

"I'm not," Joey said, startled at the stark, angry tone of JC's voice. "I'm not going after either of you. I'm with J, remember?"

"You were with me," JC pointed out. "And you hurt Lance, too. You could have at least had the decency to break things off with us before you--"

"What the fuck are you talking about, C? We never had-- we were just fucking. You and me, and me and Lance. You even said it, once, 'we're not boyfriends or anything'. There wasn't anything to break off."

JC's eyes shone. "I can't believe. I don't believe you actually thought it was just sex. You fuck." He stormed off before Joey could stop him. Dazed, Joey sought out his boyfriend, but Justin was busy comforting JC, and so Joey wandered away in search of a safe haven.

He sat alone in the back lounge of the bus until Chris turned up. They still had a couple of hours before they had to leave, but Joey couldn't think of anywhere else to go that didn't feel alien. At least the lounge was comfortable and familiar, and he could think about how he'd laid on the couch and cuddled with Justin last night, doing nothing more than kissing until they both fell asleep.

"I'm sorry about C," Chris said. Joey grunted. He'd been watching the Discovery Channel, and he'd been enjoying the cute show about breeds of cats and dogs. Now it had moved on to a documentary, and on the screen, a lioness ripped apart an antelope. He sort of sympathized with the antelope.

"Anything I can do?" Chris asked.

Joey closed his eyes. "Tell C I'm not in love with you, and that I'm not gonna steal you away from him like he apparently thinks I'm going to? Oh, and while you're at it, apologize for me being a complete moron, because apparently that's all I've been for the past five years."

"Oh, Joe." Chris's voice was faint. "C's just upset, you know that. He'll be fine."

"I guess." Joey rubbed a hand over his eyes, hoping Chris would go away. It was no use; a moment later, Chris urged him into a seated position, slid into place behind him, and began massaging his shoulders. Joey slumped forward and let Chris's hands relax his stiff muscles.

"I loved him," Joey murmured. "I still do. But it changed. And we were never formal, and he, he seemed happy, with you."

"He was," Chris whispered, and Joey felt the hair on the back of his neck stir, Chris's breath warm there. "Until yesterday when I told him I'd been in love with you for a long time. Maybe since Universal."

A shudder rippled through Joey, a combination of surprise at Chris's words and enjoyment of the closeness of his friend's body. "You never said anything," Joey said softly. "You could have."

"I know. But you were -- you were having fun with C, and Lance, and then the thing with J happened, and I knew J'd been crushing on you for a long time, so." Chris slumped against Joey's back, his hands locking loosely around Joey's middle. "It never really was a good time, and now you guys are, like, so together. You really are good for each other."

"Yeah," Joey agreed, quietly, thinking of how Justin's touch intoxicated him like none other, how he'd told Justin things he'd never confided to Lance or JC. "I love him a lot."

Chris's arms tightened around Joey's waist. "See, so. I'm not worried about it. JC'll realize that, when he cools down. You know how he gets."

Joey nodded. Chris's thumb was moving in a slow circle in the space below his belly button. He could feel sensation pooling there, and told himself sternly that it was just a physical reaction. "You should be talking to him, instead of me," Joey said.

"J's talking to him. You need it, too," Chris whispered.

* * *

Britney broke up with her girlfriend during the Challenge For the Children weekend in Las Vegas; Lance and his British boyfriend drifted apart, and then, to everyone's surprise, Britney and Lance were dating.

"It's not dating, we just need each other," Lance told Joey one night as they sat out on the balcony of Lance's hotel room, empty beer bottles around them and Britney asleep in the bed inside.

"Sure," Joey said, amused at his friend's loud protestation that love had nothing to do with it. A week later, when a drunk Lance crawled into the bed where Joey and Justin had collapsed hours earlier and, giggling, told them that he was in love with Britney, they both hugged him and then Justin told him to "get the fuck out, go fuck my ex-girlfriend or something", and Lance flipped him off and fell off the bed.

They were so cute together -- feeding each other ice cream, Lance's cell phone constantly buzzing with the unique ring he'd set for her number -- that Joey wondered what had taken them so long to realize it.

* * *

It was during one of the last shows of the tour that he realized he was in love with Chris after all. They'd been goofing off during "It's Gonna Be Me", Chris chasing him with a Nerf gun down one arm of the stage, and when Joey turned around at the end of the stage, the laughing, breathless look in Chris's eyes took the air out of Joey's lungs. He nearly forgot to come in when he was supposed to, and for the rest of the show, he fought to keep from noticing Chris at all.

Back in the hotel after the show, he stood in the shower and cursed himself, thinking about it and wondering how long the feelings had been there, submerged. He knew he'd had a physical attraction to Chris for a while -- that was obvious, and acknowledged -- but when had it developed into more? There had been a definite twinge when Chris had told him about being in love with him, sure, but Chris hadn't said anything about it since then. And JC had pretty much returned to normal, treating Joey like always -- Joey'd apologized to him at one point, and JC had given him a blank look as if he didn't have the foggiest idea what Joey was talking about -- so Joey had assumed the whole thing was past.

Suddenly, though, the thought of Chris was making his heart pound in double time, and he groaned as he brushed his erection with the washcloth. He put a hand against the shower wall and began to jerk off, his mind filled with images of Chris, who in his fantasy was naked and wet-mouthed, and he came before he'd even fully conjured a mental picture of his cock sliding into Chris's body.

The water was running cold. Joey reached for a towel, shivering, and shut the spray off.

"I hope you didn't use all the hot water," Justin said when he came out of the bathroom.

Joey sighed, rubbing his head with a second towel. "Yeah, but give it a few minutes, there'll be more."

"Aww, you suck," Justin declared. He got up from the bed, his hands possessive as they reached for Joey's waist to draw his lover close.

"And you love it," Joey murmured, closing his eyes and seeking the warmth of Justin's mouth. They fucked on the floor, Joey holding Justin's legs up, sternly telling him not to touch his cock until he said to, and Justin came all over his chest without touching himself once. Afterwards, Justin got up, weak-kneed, and poured himself into the shower. Joey laid in bed and tried to tell himself that he hadn't been thinking of Chris.

* * *

Once he'd acknowledged the thoughts, even to himself, he couldn't make them go away. He thought of talking to Lance about it, but he had a feeling Lance wouldn't take it too well; Lance was his best friend, but they'd never really resolved the uneasy ending to their pseudo-relationship, and Joey wasn't sure now how to even broach the subject. It made any discussion of current and future interests difficult at best.

He couldn't talk to JC, of course, and Justin was right out. Nor did he feel comfortable telling Chris, who could undoubtedly sympathize but would probably be hurt.

When he called Kelly, she laughed at him. "You never could keep it in your pants," she giggled, and he sighed, realizing she was unlikely to take him seriously.

* * *

The tour ended. Joey went back to the house he shared with Justin, thinking that perhaps avoidance was the best method. If he didn't see Chris, he wouldn't have to think about the weird feelings. Unfortunately, Justin lived five minutes' walk from Chris, and Joey had forgotten to take into account the fact that the two were joined at the hip. Joey took to going upstairs whenever Chris came over to play marathon games of whichever hockey or football PlayStation game they were into that week, because seeing Chris sprawled on Justin, noogieing him fiercely after Justin's latest win, did strange things to Joey's stomach.

It didn't last very long, of course, before Justin asked Joey what the fuck his problem was and why he wasn't hanging out with them. Joey couldn't come up with an excuse, so the next time, he sat on the couch, Justin sprawled on one side of him and Chris on the other, while they watched Willy Wonka for the millionth time. Joey thought this had to be some exquisite brand of torture specifically designed for him. It didn't help that Chris waxed on about JC, and where Joey would have once agreed that yes, JC did have the perfect mouth for blowjobs, now he just wished Chris would shut the fuck up about it already.

Then, occasionally, Chris would give him a liquid glance -- usually just prior to jumping on his back and tickling or insisting on a piggyback ride -- and Joey would think that no matter what Chris said, he wasn't over Joey, either.

"Let's go somewhere," Joey suggested, just before Christmas. "We don't have plans for New Year's. We can do something stupid, or just go lay on a beach somewhere or something. Get away from everybody."

Justin cocked a suspicious eyebrow at him, but the idea seemed valid, and so they spent a week on some island in the Caribbean that Joey mangled the name of every time he tried to pronounce it. It didn't help, though. If anything, thoughts of Chris were more prominent than ever.

* * *

After a while Joey became convinced that Justin could tell what was going on. Justin hadn't said anything, but he'd raised an eyebrow, betraying suspicious glances, and at one point Joey was sure Justin had caught him staring at a picture of Chris someone had taken back in Germany: Chris, with long, straight hair held back by a bandana, his arms around Joey's waist, head tipped onto his shoulder. Both were sound asleep with blissful looks on their faces. When Justin entered the room, scuffing a foot on the carpet, Joey hastily tucked the picture back into the envelope, but he had a feeling he'd been seen.

* * *

They got together for a meeting at the Compound to discuss tour dates and promotional possibilities, and Joey did his best to keep his eyes on the papers in front of him or on Justin's feet, thrown casually across his lap. Against his will, though, his eyes strayed to the opposite couch: Chris and JC sat there, touching without touching. Their shoulders brushed, and their hands were clasped between their thighs, but the whole posture had something stiff and brittle to it. Joey recognized it from the end of his time with Kelly. He met Chris's eyes, then had to look away again; they were shuttered, but he'd seen something terribly sad flicker there for a moment before Chris had shut it down.

Later, he found Chris at the bowling lane. He sat and watched Chris heave a few strikes before venturing: "You want to talk about it?"

"No," Chris said, holding his hand out for the ball as it came back. He held the ball up, poised, ready to throw, then sighed and came over to sit down on the bench next to Joey. He slumped, knees wide, resting the ball between them; he gripped it still, small fingers spread in the fingerholes.

Joey put a hand on Chris's back and rubbed slowly. "You're tense," he murmured.

"Dani's been on my back," Chris mumbled. "Fu stuff."

"Here." Joey turned Chris's shoulders away from him, then straddled the bench and began to massage the knots out of his back. Chris made small noises, alternating between hurt and pleasure. Joey's hands began to ache after a little while, but he kept going, his fingers moving up Chris's neck into his hairline, down his back to his waist. He noticed at some point that Chris had begun humming.

Finally, Chris sagged limply against Joey, who slung an arm around his shoulders, holding him there. "You're a god," Chris declared, and Joey snorted into Chris's hair.

"Remember that the next time you decide to make fun of me for my fashion sense."

"You're a god with an abysmal fashion sense," Chris promptly amended.

Joey smiled softly. Chris's hair smelled good, clean and fresh, something vaguely woodsy. He felt nice, too, heated and lazy, fitting well into Joey's embrace. Joey put his other arm over Chris's shoulder and leaned back against the wall. Chris gave a solemn sigh.

"Comfy," he mumbled.

"So I'm told." Joey absently kissed the top of Chris's head.

Chris turned a little, letting go of the bowling ball -- which dropped, with a dull thud, to the carpeted floor and rolled off a little -- and twisting his hips so that he could put his arms around Joey's waist. Joey didn't mind. He liked the way Chris felt, and Chris was relaxed and smiling, which was good, so he figured, whatever worked. When Chris looked up at him and leaned up for a quick kiss, murmuring, "Thanks," Joey thought nothing of it.

He pulled back a little, looking down into Chris's eyes. They were dark, narrowed a little, a searching look in them. "Chris?" Joey said in a voice hardly louder than a whisper.

"I've never stopped," Chris said. He sounded choked. Ice seeped through Joey's veins, and he shivered. He didn't have to ask what Chris hadn't stopped doing.

"We shouldn't," Joey breathed. Chris's head jerked in acknowledgement, but then he was leaning up, and Joey lowered his head and closed his eyes and met Chris's mouth with his own. Chris's lips parted against Joey's, and when he bit down on Joey's lower lip, Joey had to fight the urge to moan.

They pulled apart, panting. Joey was hard, and Chris's flushed skin suggested that he'd been equally affected by the kiss. "You know I'm in love with you," Joey said. Chris went a little pale, but nodded.

"Justin's gonna kill us," he muttered. Joey tugged Chris against him, cradling his head in one big hand. Chris made a small noise, like a whimper, and buried his face in Joey's neck.

"Are you gonna tell him?" Chris asked.

Joey shook his head. "He wouldn't take it too well. He doesn't. Umm, he doesn't know how I feel about you."

"Joey," Chris began to say in a reproving manner. Joey looked at the wall.

"You don't know," Joey said. "He -- he's only ever wanted me. It would kill him, it would crush him. And, I mean, nothing's going to happen between us, you and me, anyway, so it doesn't matter, does it?"

"It's still a lie."

Joey stared stubbornly away. After a few seconds, Chris sighed and pushed back. Getting to his feet, he went over and retrieved the bowling ball, setting it back on the rack. Then he came back, placing a knee between Joey's thighs -- Joey hadn't moved, except to rest his hands on his legs -- and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

"You should tell him," Chris said. "But I understand why, if you don't."

"I just. I don't want to hurt him," Joey whispered.

"Now or later, it will." Chris brushed a thumb over Joey's lips before stepping back. "Come on, they're going to wonder where we are."

"You go on. I'll be there in a minute." Joey sat there until Chris's footsteps had receded down the spiral staircase. Then he wiped his eyes and followed.

* * *

He didn't tell Justin.

* * *

He came home one afternoon from a long morning with his parents and Brianna to find the house dark, except for a note taped to the post of the railing: "Upstairs", it read, in Justin's tight handwriting. Joey rubbed his head and hoped that whatever was going on, it would be something conducive to him getting sleep.

The golden glow from the bedroom made him narrow his eyebrows suspiciously before he got to the door. Inside, an array of candles on the dressers and windowsills suffused the room with ruddy warmth, and in the center of the arrangement, Justin sat on the bed, which, Joey dimly noticed, had been made up in silk sheets. Justin himself wore a black muscle shirt and what appeared to be soft velvet pants, and his feet were bare.

"Hu," Joey said.

"Hey, baby," Justin murmured. "Come here."

By the time he'd walked over to the bed, put a knee next to Justin's thigh, and leaned him back to the mattress, Joey had forgotten all about his headache. They kissed for a long moment; then Justin smiled up at his boyfriend. "I have a surprise for you."

"Really?" Joey beamed. "What's that?"

He wasn't expecting the hand that touched his back, traveling lightly down his spine. Joey twisted, blinking in confusion when he saw that Chris was standing behind him. "J?" he said, turning his face back to his lover.

"It's, uhh. I wanted. I know how much you want him, so we, we talked about it, and..."

Joey slowly stood, wiping his face. "I don't. It's not. What about JC?"

Chris flushed, but he stepped closer to Joey, his hand making a slow path up Joey's tensed arm. "Don't worry about it, Joe. It's OK, we're all OK with it."

"I don't know," Joey said. He'd never been a strong man, though; he knew this, and with Chris so close, offering himself without hesitation or reservation, Joey felt himself dangerously close to accepting the invitation. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Chris, that woodsy smell.

"It's all right, Joey," Justin said, distant and faint in Joey's ears, from the bed. "I don't. I kind of think it'd be hot."

Joey's mind reeled at that. When Chris's fingers slipped behind his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, Joey lost the last bit of his willpower and put his arms around Chris's waist.

It was as powerful as he'd imagined it would be, if not moreso. When Chris was under him, gazing up at him with shining, astonished eyes, Joey didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "'Wanted this for so long," Chris murmured, "you don't even know." He hissed, then, and arched his hips as Joey entered him.

Justin sat nearby, watching, his mouth and eyes round. He'd gotten naked when Joey and Chris had undressed each other, and his hand slipped to his own heavy, full cock as he watched Joey's slow movements. Joey spared him a glance: "You OK, baby?" he asked, and Justin gulped and nodded. Joey grinned before returning his attention to Chris.

In a way, he felt as if the past several months -- years, maybe -- had been leading up to this moment. Chris was eager beneath him, alive with need, fingers clawing at Joey's back to urge him closer, tongue urgent in Joey's mouth, legs locking tight around Joey's waist. The emotion in his eyes -- the desire, the adoration, the bewilderment that suggested he couldn't believe it was really happening -- made Joey's heart swell, and when, nearing his orgasm, Chris bit his neck and whispered, "I love you," Joey put his face down against Chris's shoulder and murmured, hoarsely, "I love you, too."

Afterwards, shaking, he sank into Chris's embrace and waited for the blood to stop pounding in his ears. It had been different, some objective part of him thought, than it was with Justin; not necessarily better or worse, but different. He and Justin got fairly emotional, to be sure, and it was always intense between them; but this lovemaking had been intense, too. When the bed rocked under the weight of Justin's lanky body, Joey rolled to his side and reached for his boyfriend.

"I l-love you," Justin said, a quaver in his voice. "S-so much."

"Oh, J," Joey whispered. He hugged Justin, and Chris rubbed Justin's arm soothingly.

"It's OK, J. I'll take off."

"You don't have to go." Justin turned pleading eyes on Chris, and Joey stared, transfixed, as Chris's short fingers tangled in Justin's curls, drew him down. They both had their eyes open; Joey could see them staring, taking stock, as if in this moment realizing a heretofore-unseen physical attraction of the other. The silence was ringing in Joey's ears when Justin finally closed the distance and met Chris's mouth with his own.

It was entirely different from the way they kissed, Joey mused, watching Justin pin Chris to the bed. Even now, Justin tended to be almost unbearably sweet, affectionate, a little shy with Joey. But he was demanding and urgent with Chris, and when Chris rolled him over and started licking his neck, Joey echoed Justin's throaty mewls.

"Gonna fuck you," Chris promised. Joey shivered at the raw need in his voice. Justin turned nervous eyes on Joey, who reached over, squeezing one long-fingered hand in his own, and Justin bit his lip and spread his legs for Chris. Justin's hand moved lower, finding a comfortable resting spot around Joey's reviving cock; Joey hissed in response, lowering his lashes to watch Chris prepare Justin.

Joey had been the first man to top Justin -- he'd found out after their first time, and felt a bit weird, but Justin had reassured him that it had been wonderful and he wouldn't have wanted anyone else -- and so it was a bit of an odd feeling to look on as Chris's hand moved expertly between Justin's thighs. Justin groaned, sweet and responsive, and another minute had him begging in a breathy murmur for Chris to fuck him, fuck him now, please, God, fuck him now. The sight -- the sound -- stirred Joey, and when Chris braced himself over Justin and gave a teasing thrust, all three of them gasped together.

It didn't last very long. Joey was actually surprised that they managed to hold off for as long as they did, for Justin, squirming and panting and pink-faced with arousal, was one of the most erotic sights Joey had ever seen; and Chris, his eyes black and transfixed on Justin's face, had a dark beauty about him that captivated Joey. Justin had let go of him to rake his nails down Chris's back; Joey reclined on the pillows and jacked himself off, happy to watch as Justin arched and groaned beneath Chris, gasping his lover's name in the throes of orgasm.

Chris came a few moments later, with a hoarse cry, and then subsided into Justin's arms. He kissed Justin tenderly before looking up at Joey, his face shining, and murmured, "Thank you." Joey, who was panting in the aftermath of his own orgasm, only grinned.

They lay together for a little while, in a contented sprawl; Joey was attempting to summon the energy to get up and blow out the candles when Justin gave voice to the fear he'd been dreading.

"What are you gonna tell JC?" he asked.

Chris sighed, pressed his face into the soft skin of Justin's neck. "'Told you, man, I don't know. It's not like he probably even noticed I was gone tonight."

Something hollow made itself felt in Joey's stomach. "JC isn't cool with this," he said. Chris exhaled but didn't say anything else.

"Can we not talk about it tonight?" Justin asked, his voice plaintive enough that Joey nodded and closed his eyes. The bed rocked, and then the light began to fade, candle by candle. In the darkness, Justin put his arms around Joey's waist, whispering, "I love you, I love you."

"I love you," Joey replied, kissing Justin's forehead. Chris laid down behind Joey, then, warmth all down Joey's back, blanketing him. Joey tugged one of Chris's arms around his waist and listened to his lovers' breathing even out. He was still waiting for the cold knot to unclench itself in his gut when he fell asleep.

* * *

When he woke again, it was still dark, but something had changed. Joey lay quietly for a moment, listening to Justin's breathing, then realized that he was only hearing Justin. He sat up, waiting for his eyes to adjust; he could feel the lack of warmth behind him, though. Concerned, he slid out of bed, cautiously disengaging from Justin's clinging arms, and pulled on his boxers before going to investigate.

The lights were on in the kitchen, and the radio was softly playing. Joey leaned in the doorway, folding his arms and smiling: Chris was dancing around the tiled floor, bopping his head, a beer in one hand, while grilled cheese sandwiches sizzled in a pan. He was wearing one of Joey's silk robes, which hung enticingly open to reveal that he only wore briefs beneath. Joey watched in amused silence until Chris whipped around, saw him there, and froze.

"Hey," he said, sheepish.

"Hey," Joey grinned. "'Sup?"

"'Couldn't sleep," Chris muttered. "'Thought I'd have something to eat -- is that OK?"

Joey rolled his eyes eloquently before striding across the kitchen floor, reaching for the open flaps of the robe and pulling Chris close. Chris stumbled, grinning, into Joey's arms, linking his hands behind Joey's neck.

"Hello there," he murmured. "Come here often?"

"Actually," Joey began, with a laugh, and Chris growled and shut him up with a kiss.

He was in the middle of giving Joey a blow job -- Joey leaning against the sink, gasping, as Chris's tongue did incredible things to the crown of his cock -- when he suddenly leapt up, eyes wild. "The sandwiches!"

"Fuck!" Joey gasped, the abrupt transition almost too much to bear. He cupped his erection, scowling at Chris, who was frantically sawing at the sandwiches with a spatula.

"They're burned," Chris sighed, turning off the heat to the burner at last.

"It's OK," Joey said, rubbing Chris's shoulder. "We could just have normal sandwiches, or, you know."

"Yeah." Chris leaned into Joey's touch, disconsolate. "I just hate wasting them."

"It's not like I can't afford more cheese and bread." But Joey knew what Chris meant, and he hugged him, wanting to ease Chris's sudden low mood.

Chris glanced up at him with a faint smile, then, as Joey's erection bumped his hip. "I forgot about something else, huh?"

"Well..."

Joey put the burned pan in the sink, and then Chris sank to his knees again, resuming where he'd left off as if there had been no break at all. Joey came a few minutes later, with a guttural groan, thrusting into Chris's mouth. Chris swallowed hard, then dragged Joey down to the floor with him.

They made out for a little while, just touching, tasting, exploring. In the brightly-lit kitchen, with the smell of burned grilled cheese staining the air, there was something deeply intimate about it. Joey liked the way Chris shivered when he slid his tongue down between Chris's pectorals, the way his eyes rolled back in his head when Joey's fingers mapped out the back of a thigh. He'd always known Chris was sensitive -- as years of tickling matches had proven -- but this was a whole different side to that awareness.

Slowly, he worked his way down Chris's body to his cock, now hard and darkly flushed, curved towards his belly. Joey learned his taste there, too, the bitter rich taste of his pre-come, the salty sweat, the pungent musk, faintly underlaid with soap, that identified in a deep part of Joey's mind as Chris. He spent his time going down on Chris, enjoying the differences of him, the way he moaned and writhed and clutched at Joey's hair, clawed at his shoulders. His cock wasn't as long as Justin's, but thicker, filling Joey's mouth; when Joey swallowed the head, Chris let out a yelp and arched back so suddenly that his head hit the floor with a thump.

After Chris came, Joey kissed his way back up the small, dark body, cataloguing each inch of skin, trying to memorize it. He didn't think he'd have any more chances to do this, and he wanted to savor every moment. Chris tugged the robe around them, burying his face against Joey's neck.

"'Love you," he said softly.

"I love you, too," Joey replied, stroking Chris's back, his fingers skimming through a fine layer of sweat. "God, Chris."

"I know." Chris's eyelashes fluttered against the sensitive skin under Joey's jaw, and he felt dampness there. "Jesus, man. I love you so much. This is, like, some sort of dream, or -- like a lost weekend, like, you know? A reprieve."

Joey smiled a little, understanding. "The part I'm really not looking forward to is going back to acting like nothing happened. I mean, I, I look at you, and I want to touch you. How am I going to stop?"

"You have to. We have to," Chris whispered. "I don't want to let you go, Joe, but. I mean, I love JC, that hasn't changed."

"But..." Joey closed his eyes, sighing at the feel of Chris's hair brushing against his cheek. "I mean, what are you going to do? What is going on with you and C, anyway?"

Chris gave a long, shuddering sigh; his fingers plucked nervously at Joey's nipple. "It's just. It's so strange. We never talk anymore. Sometimes I feel like we never did. He spends all his time in the studio, or places that I'm not, and even when we're in bed, it's... it isn't the same. It's like, whatever we had, whatever connection there was, is gone. And he. He blames it on my feelings for you, and I don't entirely blame him."

Joey stiffened, and Chris leaned up on his arms, looking sternly down at him. "Don't you dare feel guilty, Joe. You didn't do a thing to make me fall in love with you, and you've been, like, a fucking saint. You never encouraged it."

"Well, fine, then, I feel guilty because I inadvertently hurt you and fucked up your relationship with C," Joey muttered. Chris closed his eyes and lowered his head, meeting Joey's lips with his own; his kiss was trembling and sweet, aching with a decided finality.

"If C and I break up, it'll be because he couldn't deal with my feelings for you, and I couldn't deal with him not being there," Chris said in a shaking voice, "not because of anything you did or didn't do. Please, Joe."

Nodding, Joey craned upward for another kiss, and Chris returned it desperately, his hands trembling in Joey's hair.

* * *

When they returned upstairs at last, the sky was beginning to lighten with the first fading blues of dawn. Chris slipped back into bed; Justin curled to him with a mumbled whimper, and Joey sat next to them, stroking Chris's hair until his eyes closed and his breathing evened out.

They'd made love -- Joey couldn't think of it any other way now -- one more time, Chris near tears as he prepared Joey, thrust slowly into him, a look of mingled ecstasy and sorrow in his eyes. Joey had let his hands rest lightly on Chris's waist, his legs spread on the kitchen floor, the robe a flimsy protection against the cool tile. He thought that for all his life he would remember the liquid darkness of Chris's expression, the way his pace stayed slow right up until the very end, how he'd barely even let out a whimper when he came, hard and powerful, the orgasm sustained, inside Joey. He'd slipped out, then, and lowered his head to Joey's cock, cheeks hollowed out from the suction until Joey climaxed, gasping his name.

Outside, the sky continued to brighten. Blue faded into yellow and pink, the pale, sylvan hues giving way with slow dignity to more regular colors. As the light crossed Chris's face, he turned, mumbling, and hid his eyes against Justin's shoulder. _I love them both_ , Joey thought, and felt selfish even as he hoped, guiltily that Chris and JC did break up, just so he could wake up to this sight every morning.

* * *

He woke, abruptly, some time later. The sun was shining through the curtains, burnishing Justin's hair in dappled gold. Joey groped behind him, but no one was there. It took him a moment to process that, to realize that Chris was gone. He closed his eyes and buried his face between Justin's shoulderblades.

Justin twisted, his arms slipping around Joey's waist, and kissed his hair. "Shh, baby, it's OK," he murmured. "Chris left."

"I know." Joey fought to keep the quaver out of his voice, and mostly succeeded.

"You love him, huh?" Justin said softly.

Joey nodded against his shoulder. "Don't -- I mean. I love you, J, so much. You're, you're everything."

"But so is he." Justin's tone was final, and Joey let a sigh escape against Justin's collarbone.

"I'm so sorry, J. I just. I never wanted--"

"It's all right. I love you, Joe, I'm not. I don't want to stop, I mean, I can deal with knowing that, if..."

Joey raised fear-filled eyes to Justin. "Stop? God, J, no. I couldn't."

"Then we won't," Justin said decisively, and pressed his mouth to Joey's. Joey could taste salt on them, couldn't tell if it was him or Justin who'd started to cry. He laid back and pulled Justin on top of him, kissing with frantic need, trying to lose himself in their lovemaking.

* * *

He supposed he should have seen it coming, but he was surprised nonetheless when, at rehearsal the next morning, JC walked up to him -- face a mask of anger -- and punched Joey in the mouth.

Joey fell back against Justin, who'd been right behind him; Justin caught him, with a gasp, and Joey raised a hand to his mouth and felt the warm blood on his lips. JC was shaking his hand now, wincing. "Feel better, C?" Joey mumbled.

"I fucking hate you," JC said. "You ought to know that."

"Fair enough."

"C," Justin said in a frightened tone.

"You're just as much to blame right now, J, so I really don't want to hear it," JC snarled. Joey groped to a couch and sat down, Justin following him worriedly. Joey guessed that his lip had been split; the blood was already slowing, and he figured it looked worse than it was.

"Hate us if you want, but don't hate him," Joey said.

"Oh, I'll fucking hate all of you if I want to." Joey had never seen JC so enraged. "You could have -- I knew you had feelings for him, I knew he wanted you -- fuck! he's wanted you for years, before we ever hooked up--" Joey blanched at that, but JC put his hands in his hair and began to laugh. "I even told you! Jesus, I'm a fuckin' idiot."

"JC," Justin said.

"And then-- you had to go and fuckin' sleep together, like it's no big thing," JC said. "What did you think, I wouldn't notice? Did you think I was stupid?"

"Never," Joey replied, in a strangled tone of voice. "I never claimed to make good decisions, JC. I'm sorry this-- I'm sorry it had to happen this way. I'm not sorry it happened, because, God--" JC was starting to turn purple now. Joey stood up and grabbed JC's shoulders, realizing as he did so that it was the first time he'd voluntarily touched him in a long time. He looked JC in the eye, waiting for JC to meet his gaze; then he spoke, his voice low and serious. "I love him, JC. I won't lie to you. And I know it doesn't mean anything now, but I never meant to hurt you. But, JC, if things were that good between you, the other night wouldn't have happened."

"You don't know a thing," JC said, but his voice was weak now, and he looked down at the hardwood floor between their feet.

"JC," Joey whispered. "Don't let go of him. He loves you so much."

"I love him," JC whispered. Joey pulled JC close, feeling something ease in his chest as JC flowed limply against him. He rubbed JC's back, stroked his hair, while JC sniffled against his shoulder. "I'm so s-scared, Joe. I don't want to lose him."

"You have to tell him that, C. He's the one who needs to hear it. He doesn't want to let you go, either." Joey wondered why it didn't hurt so much to say the words now. It wasn't as if his feelings for Chris had changed in the last twenty-four hours.

"Let who go?" came Chris's voice, and they both looked up, JC with wide startled eyes, to see Chris standing in the doorway. Joey gave JC a little push, and he stumbled forward a couple of steps.

"Umm, Chris, I-I need to talk to you," JC said hesitantly. A look of trepidation was spreading over Chris's face, and Joey gave him an encouraging smile, only belatedly realizing how bizarre he must look with his bloody lip.

JC crossed the room and took Chris's hands, leading him out. Justin had slipped away, but he returned now, with a handful of wet paper towels, and pushed Joey down to the couch before beginning to clean off his mouth. "You think they're gonna be OK?" he asked after a little while.

Joey nodded. "I think so."

"I. I kinda liked being with Chris," Justin murmured.

"I noticed," Joey said dryly, and Justin punched him in the shoulder.

"I'm bein' serious. I mean, it was. I'm kind of gonna miss it."

Joey raised an eyebrow at Justin. "Really? I was... I was worried that, uhh, you'd think you wouldn't be enough for me anymore or something."

Justin sank down next to Joey on the couch, a weak smile on his face. "Oh, man, no. I love you, Joe, I don't think that at all. I kind of thought it was just... all a good time, you know?"

Joey ruffled Justin's curls, feeling suddenly able to take a deep breath again. He hadn't noticed the tightness gripping his chest until that moment that it began to ease. "You're amazing, J."

"Shut up." Justin colored a little and bent his head to Joey's shoulder. "I knew, I mean, that it was never gonna happen again, but. I kinda wish it could."

"'Know what you mean," Joey said feelingly, and kissed the top of Justin's head.

Lance came into the room then, wide-eyed. "Did you guys see Chris and JC? They're making out in the hallway."

"Good," Joey grinned, and Lance's jaw dropped.

"Dude, you're bleeding!"

"JC hit me," Joey said, taking a paper towel from Justin and daubing it over his lip, oozing again with fresh blood. "It's just a cut, it'll heal."

"And bruise." Lance came over, lifting Joey's chin in his fingers. "You'll live."

"Thanks, Dr. Bass," Joey muttered. "You missed the drama."

"I don't want to know." Lance let go of Joey's jaw just as Wade came into the room, Chris and JC on his heels. They were holding hands and glowing, and Joey thought that the pang in his chest was tolerable, was worth it to see the matching smiles on their faces.

* * *

They were sitting on a bench at a photo shoot, a week later, when Chris leaned on Joey's shoulder and mumbled, "Thanks." Joey, who'd been watching JC grin into the camera, glanced at Chris with a raised eyebrow.

"What for?" he asked.

"For JC." Chris looked down at his feet. "I didn't think, I mean... you know. That it was gonna work out."

"Oh, Chris." Joey put his arm around Chris's shoulders.

"I don't think that, uhh. I mean. That anything like what happened with us and J--"

"It's all right." Joey closed his eyes, kissed Chris's temple. "I wouldn't ask it of you."

"I know, Joe." Chris's arm slid around his waist. "I still love you, though. I mean, it's. I don't know if it's gonna stop, just."

Joey nodded, and let his arm drop away, rubbing at Chris's back. "I love you, too," he murmured. "But you have C, and I have J, and... Well, you know."

"Yeah." Looking back at JC, Chris gave a little sigh. "I love him so much, Joe."

"That makes it worth it, for me," Joey murmured.

"You love J?"

"So much it hurts, sometimes." Joey smiled softly and looked down. "I never thought... but, yeah."

"Then it's worth it for me, too." Chris tipped his head against Joey's shoulder and watched as Justin leapt on JC's back, tipping them both to the ground. They were both laughing, and when Justin looked up at Joey, his eyes bright, Joey thought he might lift right into the air and float away, if not for Chris's steadying arm.


End file.
